


Experiments Gone Wrong - Vezz

by RaccoonMama



Series: Artistic Integrity [BIOW] [1]
Category: Guild Wars 2 (Video Game), Guild Wars Series (Video Games)
Genre: As far as origin stories go this is pretty average I'd say, Body Horror, Child In Danger, Gen, I promise it's not as horrible as all this sounds, I'm just trying to cover all my bases, Implied Murder, Implied/Referenced Child Death, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Necromancy, Non-Graphic Violence, Psychological Trauma, heel-face turn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-03-11 06:57:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13518912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaccoonMama/pseuds/RaccoonMama
Summary: Some people have heroic starts to their legends. For one asura, however, it was never going to be that simple...(One of several stories detailing the lives of the members of the small guild Artistic Integrity, and how they came to fight a dragon.)





	1. Level 10

For those who knew how to function in the system, working with the Inquest could be something of a dream job. There were no krewe borders, no one to hinder their work. If you had or made something that could be of benefit to another lab or work group, it got moved there. You may get moved with the project, you may not.

As for Vezz, his decision to join the Inquest had come at the surprise of many. He was a graduate of Synergetics, genius third rank, and according to many, he was headed for big things. But he was something of a loner and a wild card, and even in the small multi-college krewe he had joined, there were tensions. He got on well enough with Pheazza and Izza, but he and his co-lead on their krewe Dhass - a Statics student with a chip on his shoulder the size of Rata Sum - never could quite see eye to eye.

Despite all of his misgivings, however, he thrived in the Inquest. His biggest problem was with his superior… Zaige.

Zaige was tall, easily taller than Vezz, and while he seemed thin beneath his robes, that belied a lean, fit build. He had mottled greenish-brown skin and his narrow eyes seemed to almost glow gold. With ink black hair tied back in many braids, the mesmer gave an air of opulence to his position, and he wore his title like a badge of honor.

Vezz didn’t trust him as far as one of his minions could chuck him.

He rarely saw the taller asura, however. Though respected for his genius, many saw the necromancer as the one to distrust… perhaps not for his magic itself but for his solitary nature by comparison. Laughable, really. Anyone with half their wits knocking around in their hollow skulls would know a mesmer was far more likely to deceive. At least, even with his minions, he attacked from the front.

But he recognized, same as anyone else, that Zaige was brilliant. Even for a ranking member of the Inquest, he was considered to be quite respectable, admired for hard-hitting lectures and energetic debates. High Councilor Flax had even praised him, stating Zaige would make an excellent councilor one day.

Not a lot of the common folk knew how much pull, exactly, the Inquest could truly have.

He had been in the middle of sketching up some blueprints for a new project that day when Zaige came breezing in, gossamer robes swirling behind him as he went. He certainly had a way of making an entrance. There was someone behind him, but Vezz hadn’t bothered to lift his head to get a good look at them. “Overseer Zaige. To what do I owe this visit?”

“I wanted your advice, and your assistance with a project I’ve been working with for quite some time. You’re a brilliant mind, Vezz. Your work forwarding that research into combining necromancy and golemancy rather revolutionized some of the theories we’ve been working with here-”

“I discarded that research for a reason. I appreciate the compliments, Overseer, but I’d rather not get back into it.”

Zaige blinked, but he hardly seemed bothered, clapping a hand onto Vezz’s shoulder with a smile. “Oh, don’t be modest. I hope you didn’t suspend your research over that leg. You did quite a job there, too. But really, Vezz, I’ve been paying attention. I think you have just the sort of skill set I require to move forward with a little project I’ve been working on for quite some time.”

That was a first. In his time here, Vezz had been assigned to work on a great many projects, but more often than not, it was out of reach of Zaige himself. Not that he spent off-time out of reach. He could be a very charming individual when he felt like it. His ears twitched, interest starting to show through his wariness and unease.

Finally, after a moment or two of cautious glancing around, he turned his attention back to the taller asura, folding his arms over his chest. “You aren’t dabbling in a touch of nepotism, are you, Zaige? I know my work is good, but I’d rather not have you pick me for some dolyak hunt just because you like the turn of my ears.”

“Certainly not. Believe me, this is something I think you will be specifically suited to. You’ve got a deft hand with using the dead to benefit the living- which, of course, is as a necromancer does, but you are unique. This project could be what really gets you noticed by the boys up top. Just think: no more serving under me.” A sly grin spread across the mesmer’s face. “Of course, unless you want to.”

Vezz sniffed at him, pulling his ears back. “No need to be crass. I understand what you’re getting at, in both regards. That said, I’m rather curious as to what exactly this project entails. You keep trying to tempt me with it, and yet you’ve given me no details at all.”

Stepping back from the necromancer, Zaige freed his hand to instead wave it about absently, magic flickering from his fingertips. “A little this and that. It’s very hush hush at the moment, but I’ve been, ah… quite busy working out the kinks. It’s just so hard to find good test subjects, you know? Like finding a pin in a stack of needles…” He sighed heavily. “But you know what they say, hm? Future innovation is in the minds of our progeny. I’ve just figured out how to… unlock that. You’ll be quite impressed, I think.”

Grinning again, he turned in a flurry of black and red robes, heading for the door back out into the main lab. Before Vezz could even get a question out of his mouth, he was gone, and for several moments, he stood in silence, brow furrowed. “...what in the world did he mean by that?”

He was silent for a moment or so, turning back to his work. Blueprints and the beginnings of old experiments lay scattered, only now he couldn’t focus. What Zaige said still rang in his ears. Unlocking the potential of progeny?

Any other time, he may have let the matter rest, but all he could think of were the random odd occurrences he had continually overlooked. His ears pulled back tighter.  
Maybe… just maybe… this was worth further investigating.

* * *

There were very few people permitted near Zaige’s formal workstations, to the point that no one dared go near, even when they were only lightly guarded. Those few allowed could be counted on one hand, and in this instance, Vezz counted himself lucky to be among them. Using the excuse to one of the guards that Zaige had asked him to fetch something, he slipped into the large laboratory mostly unhindered.

Nothing really seemed out of place. As it had been on the occasions he’d been in here with the supervisor, it was much more well lit than other areas of the facility, bathed in a faint pink glow as opposed to the vivid red that the rest of their number seemed to favor. Beakers and bits of projects were neatly organized across several tabletops, each marked with their priority in the greater project they were all at this facility for the end goal of completing.

And some things, he recognized. There were copies of his student blueprints, and a replica of the device that had exploded and taken off his leg not long after joining the Inquest. Instinctively, he reached down, the tips of his claws brushing against the fabric just above where he had used his necromancy to reattach and reanimate the leg, creating a prosthetic of sinew and bone. It ached, when he had to “replenish” it using the life energy of birds and rats, but it functioned.

Why would Zaige have brought it here? It was a failure. He had tried to use the life essence of a skritt to power the small device, but it had backfired completely. Perhaps he’d found a way to stabilize it?  
Curiosity overrode his true purpose for being here, and he walked over to take a quick peek. There were all sorts of notes written on nearby blueprints, but one in particular caught his attention.

“Not smart enough. Need smarter.”

What did that even mean? Even as he read it, though, something cold and awful clenched in the pit of his stomach. Hadn’t Zaige mentioned progeny the night before…? No, there was no way he could do something that horrible.

Swallowing hard against the fear of what could be, he continued to poke about, pausing only when he found a small box shoved away under the only cluttered desk in the room. He would have overlooked it, but he stopped, staring at the box, ears twitching against his shoulders.

He shouldn’t overlook anything.

He should be thorough.

He had to look.

Stepping over quietly, he reached down, pulling the box out to pull off the lid. At first, what was inside looked like the typical sorts of things skritt wore in one of the few decencies their feeble rodent minds allowed them. But the closer he looked, the more he realized these were not artifacts simply picked up willy nilly. They were the belongings of children. Little tool kits, toys, dolls, ribbons and bangles undoubtedly given by doting parents.

Almost all of them were stained with blood.

His breath caught in his throat. This couldn’t be true, could it? This was all coincidental. But the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Zaige needed “smarter” subjects. Innovation in the minds of progeny. Figuring out how to unlock it. As an awful dread began to coil up his spine, he shoved the box aside, starting to rummage through the table it was stuffed away under. There were further notes here, more detailed. Outlining experiments, lethal ones, performed not on skritt or the odd hapless fool that came here with a mind to be a hero, but instead on progeny.

On helpless, innocent progeny.

He had no idea how many had been here. How many Zaige had terrorized, poked and prodded at. How many had lost their lives to whatever in the name of the Alchemy he thought he was doing here.

Vezz did not have many lines. He looked the other way when adult asura stumbled in and were kicked into test rooms. It made him uncomfortable at times, but he had never done any of the experiments, and it was their own fault for trying to kill people here. An eye for an eye. But to harm, to murder, children?

His hands clenched, claws dragging through wrinkled parchment, and his ears only lifted when he heard a sound nearby. “Hey- the boss said no one’s supposed to be in here!”

All his fury at this indecency seemed to bubble force and Vezz spun. It was Mhitt, a young apprentice, who stepped back uneasily at the sight of the sheer rage on the necromancer’s face. Vezz’s lip was curled back, needle sharp teeth bared, and he managed to school himself enough to hiss out just one thing: “If you value your life… you’ll run and never look back.”

To Mhitt’s credit, he did at first make as if he was going to run. But the guardian was not so easily dissuaded, and he reached for his hammer, never taking his eyes off the other asura. “I don’t know what you’re doing, Vezz, but I can’t let you do it.”

“Mhitt,” came the low reply, “you won’t have a chance to stop me.”

* * *

For the first part of his rage, he swore he remembered very little. Mhitt was the first to fall, as Vezz had his minions at his side almost immediately, a small bone minion he often called Mindless screeching along at his heels. The fires were accidental, the result of interrupted experiments and burners knocked over as their owners attempted to protect themselves from a necromancer armed with fury, a blood fiend, a bone fiend, and a flesh golem.

If he had been somewhat more in control of himself, he may have recognized people he knew refusing to back down, even in the face of such wrath. Many tried to shout him down. Convince him they could bounce back from this. Smooth it over with Zaige. But Vezz no longer had time for such arguments. He had been young, foolish, naive. He’d listened to everyone but the voices with his best interests at heart, and here he was. He had been aiding and abetting child killers!

As another former comrade fell, a voice in the back of his mind reminded him: this was the end of his time with the Inquest. They would hunt him, surely. They would try to kill him, and may even succeed. But he had ceased to care.

The people here deserved to die. And maybe he did too, for refusing to pay attention to the warning signs.

He only stopped when he found himself in front of his own old lab space, and inside stood… Zaige. The mesmer was smiling faintly, just staring out the door as if nothing was wrong, but he was holding something. Cautiously, Vezz moved closer, and once he was within spitting distance, he realized what the something was: a little progeny, with wide, terrified blue eyes and tightly curled red hair tied up tightly. Her ears, too big for her head, were pulled back sharply, and dark speckles covered her pale skin.

He knew this girl. He knew her parents. Dhass, Pheazza, his old krewemates… it was their daughter. Kinna.

Still Zaige smiled.

“Quite a number you’ve done, Vezz. And here I thought you would be more amicable to my ideas. Ah well, not everyone can be a winner. But as you can see, I have found a perfect test subject. I was going to ask your help working her into the golem design, but… well, I’m starting to think you aren’t as interested as I’d originally assumed.”

Vezz immediately drew his ears back, red eyes bright, rage written in every move, dripping from every word. “If you touch one hair on her head, Zaige…!”

The mesmer just laughed, and it was then Vezz recognized the faint ripple of magic. Zaige wasn’t here at all. This was just another illusion. “Why don’t you come and find us, then, Vezz. We’ll have a little heart to heart over this. See if we can’t put this whole messy business behind us. Everyone here is replaceable, besides. But you… you’re something special.”

Beside him, Mindless chittered, and Vezz sneered. “Where are you? I’m going to come and find you, and I will make you pay-!”

“Will you? Well. I suppose you’ll have to find me first, won’t you? Good luck, Vezz. I look forward to the outcome!”

As the last words came from the illusion before him, it began to dissipate, fading into delicate pink moths that floated away and burst into harmless nothingness. Vezz’s hands tightened on his staff. He was going to end this. Now.

* * *

When Vezz finally located his once supervisor, he was standing in the middle of one of the golem testing labs on the bottom floor. He stood amidst ruin and flames from where Vezz had torn through here much earlier, hands folded behind him, eyes like molten amber, a thin smile carved into his angular features.

“I must admit I’m shocked, Vezz. You’re far more powerful than I had suspected. Pity it took all this to realize it, but we can always find new flunkies. You really are something special.”

Vezz didn’t want to hear it. He was bristling, panting faintly with the sheer level of magic he had done in the scant hour since his rampage had started. And yet Zaige had the nerve to stand there, not ten paces from him, as if this was just some minor setback. Was he a fool? Mad? Whatever he was, he wasn’t having it. Not anymore.

“Where’s Kinna, Zaige?” When the supervisor’s grin only widened, he took a step forward, and his voice came out louder. Shaking. “Where is she?!”

Now Zaige shrugged, gliding across the room toward a nearby console, completely ignoring the chaos reigning around him. “Somewhere. I don’t need her just yet, and I’ll need you to calm down before we begin the procedure anyway.”

Vezz drew his ears back tightly, lips curled back into a snarl. “Procedure? You won’t be doing any procedure! I’m taking Kinna home!”

“Please, like you care. You never got on with her father, and you’ll forget having “wronged” that addle-brained burner within a day. Now come, let’s to work-”

Whatever he’d been about to say was cut short when all at once, abandoning his staff, the necromancer flung himself into him, a sound tearing from his throat that was very nearly primal. The two rolled, scuffling for a moment until Vezz wound up on top, eyes burning like bloodstone as he scowled down at Zaige. And Zaige...

He couldn’t believe it. Zaige was laughing, despite where he lay, despite the fact that Vezz had him pinned, hands closed around the taller asura’s throat. The mesmer’s gold eyes were wide and wild as he stared up at the necromancer, a wicked grin cutting across his features, sharp and vivid.

“Ohoho, this is brilliant! Look at you, Blightcaller. What are you going to do? Kill me?” He laughed again, and Vezz winced, his ears drawing back. The sound was so high and clear, like glass breaking, every repetition like daggers. It echoed through the empty room, above the roaring fires in nearby labs. “You? You wouldn’t even kill the skritt you were researching! Face it, Vezz: you’re not a killer. You’re barely cut out to be a scientist! All of this, everything you’ve done here? It’s all emotion, and you’ll make yourself sick every time you remember it. You might be brilliant, but do you know what you are? You’re weak. You’re weak! Only I can bring out your true potential. Without me? You’re nothing!”

Vezz drew in a ragged breath, tight as anger bubbled up in his chest. He had not come in here to kill Zaige. He had come in here to get Kinna and take her home. If that had meant leaving the Inquest, if that had meant their haunting his every move, then so be it.

But Zaige was taunting him! Dangling his own life as if testing Vezz’s resolve. This was not the plan… it had never been in the plan.

“I’m not here to kill you. I was never here to kill you.” It was a struggle to keep his voice level and even, and his hands shook as his grip tightened, like a reflex. The leathery skin under the pads of his fingers gave, and he felt more than heard Zaige wheeze as he struggled to keep breathing. “But I am here to take a little girl back to her family. And to make sure you never hurt another child again.”

Despite the determination and conviction in his voice, all he earned was another peel of laughter from Zaige, though the supervisor had to stop to drag in choked breaths when he did. “Stop me? This is progress, Vezz! Thanks to the research I've done into understanding the minds of our young, our end goal is even closer than it ever has been. So what if a few of the stupider progeny get weeded out of the ranks? One or two smart ones won't be missed, and Dhass and Pheazza's precious little Kinna is just the subject we've needed to crack this whole thing wide open. Think with your head, Vezz. Not with that shriveled old grape you call a heart.”

Quietly, as calmly as he could manage, Vezz swallowed, pushing down a lump in his throat. “Where is Kinna, Zaige. I’m not going to ask again.”

Zaige only grinned at him, eyes flashing amber in the blaring red light. “That’s a surprise, isn’t it? You’re going to have to kill me. You know that. But you can’t, because you’re a soft-hearted knuckle-sucker who doesn’t have the ears to pull that proverbial trigger. I’m right here, Vezz! You could shove down with all your might and end it now! But you won’t. Because you’re a coward. And you always will be.”

That did it.

All of his rage, his frustration, his anger… all of his sorrow at seeing the bones and bodies of children he never knew were in danger. His disbelief when poor little Kinna was dragged before him. If this monster had killed her, he would do this anyway. He had killed so many already. Why wait?

His fingers tightened as Zaige cackled, and a murmured chant passed through gritted shark-like teeth. He wondered how different this would feel, had he been mesmer or elementalist. How the magic of life flowed into him, sickly green glow tracing up into Zaige’s face and down past the collar of his ornate robes, following patterns of veins and blood through the rest of his body.

This was different, though, wasn’t it? Mesmers used trickery. Elementalists harnessed the forces of nature. He was a merchant in death. The sensation was like fire, flaring across his palms and to his fingertips, slowly up his arms. It pooled like lava in his belly and stretched further down, winding its way around his reanimated leg. There was no feeling there - the limb had been dead for far too long for that - but he could feel the sick heat at the stump where the limb was attached through very old magicks.

It was agonizing. Sacrificing rats and birds to keep his reanimated leg functioning was always a faint sting, a pinprick, like stubbing your toe or putting your hand too close to an open flame. This was like a searing, the heat of a funeral pyre burning from the inside out. And up until the end, as ragged desperate coughs and wheezing took over Zaige’s mad laughter, until the sounds died out with a whispered rush of breath, Vezz had ceased to care.

He swore he was screaming… that he tasted blood. Neither of those things mattered.

It wasn’t until the magic faded, faint green lines withdrawing into his hands and fading as they retreated into his leg, which glowed with new life, that his senses reclaimed him. And he stared in silence down at the corpse that had been Supervisor Zaige, completely drained of life, more a mummy than anything.

He couldn’t make a sound, recoiling violently from Zaige’s remains, chest heaving. His leg felt so powerful, too powerful, and the burning sensation in his gut left behind from the immense drain of pulling all that into himself was making him light-headed. He had to drag himself up with the side of an upturned table, and the instant his feet were under him, he weaved, retching violently. By the time his body had finished reacting, forcing him through adrenaline and overexertion to empty the contents of his stomach, he was gasping for air, his whole body trembling.

“K-Kinna… oh… oh no… no, I need… I have to find Kinna. Kinna?!” He whipped his head around, ears up and alert as his eyes flashed in the dying flames. “Kinna, can you hear me? Answer me!”

His answer was not the cry of a tiny progeny, but instead his bone minion Mindless, who slammed bodily into his good leg before screeching and scrabbling, biting at his robe with its little fangs, trying to draw him toward what looked like an old broom closet on the far side of the room. The little minion may not have had a brain in its fat little body, but he wasn’t going to brush it off that easily.

Shaking out his arms to try to settle his fears, he hurried over to yank the door open. There on the floor, tucked as close into the corner as she could get, was Kinna, her thick red curls doing nothing to obscure the tears rolling down her cheeks. The relief Vezz felt was palpable, and he sighed as he knelt, reaching out his hands to her. “Come on, Kinna. Let’s get you home to your mom and dad. Pheazza and Dhass are probably beside themselves with worry.”

She hesitated briefly, but amidst all the chaos, he was the only friendly face she’d seen. And as soon as she bolted to him, he scooped her up, pulling off his hood to put over her head.  
“Keep this over your eyes, Kinna. And hold tight to me. We’ll be home soon. I promise.”

* * *

It was late when he finally reached their old krewe space, and he was dreading at first what he would find there. Dhass was the one who worked late, and Dhass was the last person he wanted to see. But who he found instead was Pheazza, sitting silently near one of the viewing walls, gently rubbing the head of her lynx Nego. The feline had its head in her lap, but it turned when Vezz slipped silently in, and that drew Pheazza’s attention as well.

She probably would have decked him on sight had he not quietly pulled the hood away from Kinna’s head, slinging it over his shoulder in silence. The girl blinked a few times, her bright blue eyes adjusting to the light, before she caught sight of the red-haired ranger nearby. “Momma!”

Pheazza didn’t hesitate a second longer, rushing over to all but tear Kinna from Vezz’s arms, choking on a sob as she curled the progeny close. She stood like that for several moments, sobbing along with her terrified daughter, her grip almost too tight as she convinced herself she wasn’t actually dreaming.

Once she had finally composed herself again, she sniffed and lifted her head, though she didn’t put Kinna down. Vezz couldn’t blame her.

“Vezz, where- how did you find her? What happened?”

“I can’t tell you, Pheazza. As much as I’d love to give you the whole story, I’d rather just leave this whole affair behind me. It will only upset you and Kinna, besides. Just suffice to say I’m no longer with the Inquest, and the people who stole Kinna will no longer be an issue going forward.”

As he spoke, Pheazza’s eyes grew wider, until finally her brow furrowed and her short ears pulled back. “You don’t just leave the Inquest. They’ll… you’re a walking target.”

He just nodded, solemn, resigned. “I know that. Believe me. That’s why I’m not staying. Besides, I doubt Dhass will have any friendly words for me, and I’d rather not try to go into hiding by being thrown in a peacemaker cell to “cool off” after a public fistfight.”

“I shouldn’t let you just walk away, Vezz. But I know you. You’ve cut your own path ever since this started, and I have to trust you know how to follow where it takes you.” She paused, shifting Kinna to one hip before reaching into a pouch at her belt. She held out her hand when she found what she was looking for, and when Vezz put his hand out after a moment of hesitation, she dropped something into his palm: a simple arrowhead. “It’s the first one I made when Caessenia started training me on the bow. She said I needed to learn by doing, if I was going to be so bullheaded. Maybe it’s sentimental on my part, but I’ve kept it ever since that day. I want you to have it.”

He frowned, his fingers curling around the small chunk of stone. It felt cool and soothing against his still aching palms. “But why?”

“Because you were my friend once. Because despite everything that’s happened, you brought my Kinna back home to me. Because I think despite everything you’ve done, you’re a good person at heart. But more importantly than anything else, because you need this now more than ever: you need a little something to always remind you that you don’t always have to fly straight. You just need to fly true.”

There was a long moment after she spoke, and when Vezz swallowed, it was past a tight lump in his throat. She had always been a strange one, but he supposed that made sense. She had been born to a merchant father and a seafaring mother in Lion’s Arch, and had spent her childhood there before coming here to attend college at her father’s behest. Zaige had called her burner, hadn’t he? A coarse way to refer to someone whose youth was spent cavorting among open walkways and sea-sprayed docks instead of solid stone and crystal. But she was too good for that. He hesitated only a moment longer, then reached out with a free arm to pull his old friend into a hug. One she returned with her own free arm. “Thank you, Phee. I’m just glad I could help get Kinna home safe.”

“Just that means more than you’ll ever know, gory. Here, you’d better go.” Smiling, she leaned back, shifting so she was holding Kinna with both arms. “Dhass will be back with the search party soon. Izza made me stay here this time since I’ve been running myself ragged… her sister Pyrria’s orders, you know. Now I’m glad they did. Won’t he be surprised when he gets home and our little spark is home all safe and sound.”

“Ah, it’s a shame I’ll miss the look on his face. You take care, Phee. And you too, Kinna. Don’t you go wandering off from your mother, all right? She worries.”

The girl gave an indignant little sniff, but she did nod, little claws dug into the fabric of her mother’s shirt. Vezz gave a faint smile, then nodded to them both, slipping off silently into the night.

* * *

It was nearly two weeks later when a sound at the entrance to the old abandoned lab he’d holed up in jolted Vezz from a restless sleep. Immediately his hand was out, reaching for his staff as Mindless hissed and chattered from its place on the floor. He’d been lucky so far. Only two Inquest assassins had found him, each at different hiding spaces, but this one they’d found more quickly than the last.

A small part of him almost welcomed the intrusion, wished they’d been quieter, but as he stood, feeling the movement of the small arrowhead still in his pocket, he steeled himself, ready for a fight.  
What came through the door, however, did not wear Inquest colors. The asura before him was short, with long ears and bright eyes, wearing very familiar robes in vivid, resplendent blue. She was giving him a long look, casually glancing toward his staff before looking back at him.

He wasn’t entirely sure how Zojja managed to look down her nose at someone taller than she was, but he didn’t question confident genius.

“Well.” He moved his staff aside, brow arching as he took a step back. “Zojja. I must say, this is an unexpected surprise.”

“Of course. You’ve hidden yourself fairly well back here, Vezz. Probably not well enough, though, if I could find you… but then, I’m very persistent.” She gave him a wilting smile, resting her hands lightly on her hips. “How’s hiding from the Inquest working out for you?”

Now he remembered why he disliked talking to the short elementalist. Zojja was truly brilliant, and had once been the beloved pupil of the famed inventor Snaff, who was sadly killed a few years prior. He had heard from others that his death had hit her terribly hard - she had been part of the infamous battle that cost the greatly loved old genius his life, but to see her now, standing proud and self-assured, one could scarcely have guessed it.

But she was stubborn. Stubborn, self assured, and absolutely, insufferably smug. Just like she’d been when he’d known her in college. She’d found him, that much was right: and if she had, the Inquest would not be far behind. He would have to move again.

“It was going just fine before you showed up here. Though now I’m going to have to find a new place to hole up. So… you know, thanks. For that.”

Zojja seemed hardly bothered, or repentant. “Lucky for you, I have a proposition that could make it so you stop running and start living your life again… and maybe you make a difference in the process. Make amends for those years you lost under Zaige’s heel, hm?”

That was the absolute last thing he wanted. To be indebted to Zojja, of all people. Though they had known one another since college, they’d never quite seen eye to eye. But the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Only two weeks and he’d been found three times. The Inquest was not going to let him go that easily, and their attempts to find him would only intensify. His resignation would be written in his own blood.

Sneering in frustration, he let out a sigh, ears drooping against his shoulders. “What exactly did you have in mind?”

The smile that spread across her pale face was enough to let him know he’d gotten himself into something indeed. Clasping her hands together in front of her chest, Zojja let out a breath, and then began. “I’ve already got some irons in the fire regarding some… long-term planning I’ve been doing, some of them involving your former krewemate Izza’s two little sisters- I’m sure you know of them.” She didn’t pause to let Vezz speak, reaching down to pick up Mindless as the abomination skittered over to sniff at the hem of her robes. “But what I need right now isn’t a pair of sisters with their heads on straight. I need an ex-Inquest flunky of questionable morals to help me find something that was lost.”

Vezz’s lip immediately curled back and he sniffed, bridge of his nose wrinkling. “Calling me an ex-Inquest flunky isn’t the best way to gain my assistance, you know.”

“If the shoe fits. I know you well enough to know you’re not any happier with what you were doing than anyone else you know is. But I won’t press the issue.” Giving him a knowing look, she rubbed Mindless’s belly and then put the creature down. “Several blueprints were stolen from Snaff’s- from my lab last week. I’d been working on putting them in storage, but someone broke in while I was away dealing with a situation with a separate situation. They were some of his last designs before he-...” Zojja trailed off, and Vezz swore he heard her voice crack. She blinked hard, looking away from him for a moment before clearing her throat and continuing. “I want them back. And I want to put the hurt on whoever took them. I’m certain they’re working out of a facility up north of Ulta Metamagicals in the Brisban Wilds.”

Now her determination made even more sense. Someone, possibly someone he’d known, had stolen something very dear to her. Her desire to get them back was completely understandable, but he couldn’t help but give in to a wave of confusion. “That doesn’t exactly explain why you would want me to help with this. I’m certain there are any number of geniuses who would trip over themselves to help you lift a copper piece, let alone go with you to retrieve Snaff’s last works. And yet you went through the trouble to come find me… an unwanted loner with a price on his head. I don’t belong in Rata Sum. I don’t belong in the Inquest. But you seem to think I belong… helping you. What’s your angle?”

Zojja looked back at him, her expression strangely contemplative. “Because you’re someone with nothing to lose and everything to gain. If this works, I can get you in touch with a guild and some people that can help you. You don’t want to die at the hands of the Inquest, and I need help. Help that right now, you’re my only option for. And I think that in the end, this will be mutually beneficial for the both of us. But I’m not going to force you. If you’re interested, meet me at the Ulta Metamagicals lab and we’ll discuss this in further detail. Take care, Vezz. Try not to get killed, okay?”

She didn’t wait for a farewell, reaching down to give Mindless a little head rub before spinning on her heel and marching out. Vezz stood in silence for a moment or two before glaring down at his ever-present minion, letting out a frustrated sigh. “Traitor.” Then, he groaned, walking back to sit on the edge of his makeshift bed, taking out the arrowhead to stare at it as he weighed his options in his mind. “...damn it. She does have a point, doesn’t she. Well… Pheazza did suggest I just had to fly true. This… this may be a good first step. Let’s get everything put together and burn all evidence we were here, Mindless. We’re heading for Ulta Metamagicals.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An image of Vezz, the Blightcaller


	2. Level 20-30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vezz can't seem to catch a break. Going into an Inquest facility was definitely the last thing he wanted...

Even when he was younger, Vezz had never really had the opportunity to go up into the Brisban Wildlands. It was less heavily covered in trees and large, leafy plants than he was used to, and the humidity wasn’t as crippling, but it was still so visibly part of the jungle he’d known his entire life. It was almost too still at points, with baren patches and hills jutting out of the landscape, nothing quite like the mountains he was used to near Rata Sum. Near the entrance, some of the area seemed to be affected by the events at Thaumanova, but nothing too severely. The further he got in, the influence faded, and as dusk began to fall, he found himself approaching his destination.

Ulta Metamagicals was not a large research site, either. At least not compared to others he’d seen in his time. But all of the equipment looked to have been carted here directly from Rata Sum, with inactive asura gates scattered around the hillsides. Some of the researchers and guards gave him leary glances as he passed, but he did his best to keep his shoulders straight. He could’ve gotten some new robes before coming here, but honestly, he didn’t see the point. Zojja wanted an “ex-Inquest lackey.” He may as well fit the bill.

The genius was waiting for him at the north end of the site, with Mister Sparkles towering over her as the golem was wont to do. She smiled when she spotted him, though the expression was thin, and it didn’t come close to brightening up those piercing eyes. “I was starting to think you weren’t going to make an appearance, Vezz. And yet here you are. I’ve been monitoring the camp just north of here… bandits and Inquest, working side by side. Not sure to what end yet, but I’m approximately 97.351% certain now that it was a human that stole the blueprints. Daring… and yet clever. While humans would arouse suspicion, it’s not uncommon for tourists to want to visit the memorial labs.”

“So a cunning ne’er-do-well would find it easier than it should be to waltz into a high security lab and liberate a blueprint or three. You’re right, that is quite clever, despite the risks involved.” Vezz turned his attention toward his shorter companion, one ear lifting just slightly. “But in order to know what to grab… the person involved must have known Snaff quite well.”

Zojja’s ears immediately pulled back, and a brief sour expression crossed her face before she sighed, rolling her eyes skyward for a moment. “I catch your implication. And no, I didn’t divine to have blueprints that are now, by rights, in my protection stolen from under my nose while I was involved elsewhere. I wasn’t Snaff’s only apprentice, after all. No, I have reason to believe Kudu may be directly involved.”

Kudu. Now that was a name Vezz knew well. He’d only met the man once, but that was enough to tell him that he was not someone to be trifled with. A former pupil of Snaff’s, much like Zojja, he had rebelled against his master’s decision not to further research dragon magics. Instead, he’d joined the Inquest, and between a staggering intellect rivaling Zojja’s and the information he brought with him - most of it stolen from Snaff - he climbed the ranks quickly. Even Zaige had answered to him.

A brief wave of nausea swept over him and he reached out to steady himself against a nearby rock formation. Zojja either didn’t notice or didn’t care, returning her attention to the north. As she did, Vezz swallowed hard, taking a breath before he spoke. “So Kudu stole some of Snaff’s old research. Or he had someone else do it, at least. Where does that leave us? What exactly did he steal, Zojja?”

For a moment or two, Zojja was quiet. She didn’t look at him, but her body language was clear: whatever had happened, she wasn’t keen on talking about it. Finally, instead of replying, she started forward at a brisk jog, forcing Vezz to scramble to keep up, even with his longer gait. “We’ll talk about it later. We can’t wait too long or we’re going to lose this opportunity to catch them by surprise. Come on.”

He frowned after her, but didn’t waste any time catching up. She was a fast walker, and if he wasn’t careful, he’d end up getting left in the dust.

It was nearly nightfall by the time they arrived at a stand of trees overlooking a camp below. Vezz recognized the distinct glow of Inquest machinery, and the faint humming could be heard from all the way up here. Mindless grunted and hissed at his side, and he slowly nodded, considering. “As much as I figure you’re wanting to finish this quickly, Zojja, we’d honestly best make camp. They’ll double security after dark, likely with heavy duty defense golems and matter repellant barriers- they’re all the rage in Inquest labs these days, and believe me, they’re not pleasant to run into.”

She frowned at him when he said that, moving slightly past to look down the hill toward the camp. The entrances were being covered with what from here looked like some sort of film, but it was likely a magical barrier of some kind… and if Vezz was correct, nothing they wanted to get on the wrong side of in any sense of the words. So she sighed, taking a step back. “Fine. We’ll set up camp here. No funny business, Blightcaller.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Zojja. Let’s get these tents up. We can move at daybreak.”

* * *

Despite the calm of the area, Vezz barely slept. Their proximity to an Inquest facility left a foul taste in his mouth, and the risk of discovery set his stomach to churning. While he wasn’t sure just what he wanted, he was at least certain it wasn’t torture and becoming some sort of Inquest experiment prior to a slow and agonizing death. Instead he sat awake in his small tent, ears held high, listening intently for anything that could be a risk to their mission.

Just before dawn, he heard the cracking of brush nearby, too measured and spaced to be some animal rummaging through the underbrush. The steps were growing closer, and while he could just try to ignore it, he didn’t want to face Zojja’s wrath if she woke up to an Inquest assassin holding a blade to her throat. Gently pushing Mindless aside, he climbed to his feet and moved toward the flap of the tent.

He could see no one outside, but his ears remained up. Quietly, he slipped out of the tent and made his way to Zojja’s, but he hadn’t so much as reached to open it that a dagger whizzed past his ear, embedding itself in a nearby tree. The necromancer spun, going for his axe… only to find a human woman standing there, holding a pistol in one hand with her free hand hovering over a fresh dagger.

“Don’t move, Inquest,” she hissed, shaking back her long black hair. “I won’t let you hurt these people.”

Well… at least she wasn’t a bandit.

“I’m not going to hurt anyone! I thought you may be a bandit or someone from the Inquest yourself, so I was going to wake my companion-”

She had another dagger in her hand in the next instant, ready to strike. “A likely story! You expect me to believe for a second that you’re not Inquest?!”

He stared blankly at her for a moment before finally blurting out the only thing that came to mind. “I’m- well, yes!”

“Cute,” the woman spat, hand shifting on the dagger. “That’s strike two. Now if you don’t want a brand new air hole in that big head of yours, you’ll step away from the tent, Inquest.”

Vezz groaned, but he did step back, slowly lifting his hands in the air. He needed to talk her down, or Zojja was going to wake up very angry and short one unwilling accomplice in her little plan here. He never should’ve agreed to this in the first place!

He had to diffuse the situation and fast.

“Look, believe me, I know what this looks like. But I swear to you, I’m not with the Inquest. I mean- I’m not anymore- listen, that’s beside the point! I’m helping someone with a project!”

He heard the gun cock. She clearly didn’t believe him. “Strike three, gruesome.”

She had just started to lift the weapon when all at once, the flap to Zojja’s tent tore open. The elementalist stood there looking as though she’d just barely woken up, her short ears pinned back, bright eyes reflecting in the dim light reaching them where she stood. “What in the name of the pinion gears of the Eternal Alchemy is going on out here?!”

The human woman clearly seemed startled at the sudden interruption, and she did take a step back, but her pistol stayed trained on Vezz. “This Inquest lackey was trying to attack you in your sleep, ma’am! I was trying to help! But he keeps trying to bluff me, saying he’s not Inquest when he’s dressed like that!”

She gestured with the hand that held the dagger, indicating the stark black and red of his gossamer robes. Maybe he should’ve bothered.

Zojja was very quiet for a moment, the situation processing through her sleep addled mind. As the fog began to clear, however, she let out a long-suffering sigh, pressing her thumb against her temple. “I appreciate your attempt to help, but this man is not Inquest. He’s here to assist me in retrieving some blueprints that were stolen from my lab.”

For a moment, the woman seemed uneasy, moving back a bit. She shifted, just slightly, then deflated somewhat as she released the hammer on the pistol gently and holstered both it and the dagger. “Well why didn’t he say so?”

“I did say so!” Vezz immediately retorted, flinging his hands in the air. “By the Alchemy, why are humans so trigger happy?!”

“I’m not trigger happy! You’re dressed like you’re Inquest!”

Grumbling irritably, Zojja put both hands up. “Will both of you be quiet? It was a misunderstanding. That said, I’m a little surprised to find a human alone up here. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little suspicious myself.”

A blush spread across the woman’s cheeks at that, and she smiled sheepishly, bowing forward just slightly. “I’m really sorry- I’ve been staking out the camp near here for a couple of days. My name’s Garence Terring. I’m here on orders of Captain Thackeray. You’re Zojja, right? He’s talked about you, a little bit.”

Zojja gave an indignant sniff at that, waving one hand as she stepped into her tent to grab her ornate headgear. “One in the same, though I’m surprised he even bothered. Yes, I’m Zojja. And this is Vezz, former Inquest stooge. We’re looking into this same location, as someone in that facility stole something that belongs to me. But what interest would Logan have in common bandits and low ranking Inquest?”

“There’s been Inquest showing up in Divinity’s Reach and Queensdale, and Captain Thackeray wanted me to check it out. He thinks that some of the bandits we’ve seen are actually separatists, and that they’re working with a small group of Inquest.”

That surprised Vezz, who glanced up at the woman with renewed interest. “What would human separatists be doing working with Inquest? Their goals don’t exactly align, and the Inquest is usually not keen on making alliances outside of their own interests… or their own species, for that matter.”

It was Zojja who spoke up at that. Her voice was clearer, and she no longer looked like she was barely awake. “It could be a tradeoff. The separatists get important blueprints for the Inquest, the Inquest provides technology that allows the separatists to achieve their goals. While it would be an uneasy alliance at best, both sides would likely see it as mutually beneficial. But if that is the case, then we need to act quickly. Does Logan believe Queen Jennah is in danger?”

“He absolutely does.”

“Right. Normally not too big on human politics, but if something happened to Queen Jennah, it could destabilize all of Kryta and rekindle the war with the charr… something we don’t need right now, if my theories hold true.” Zojja clicked her tongue lightly. “Which means, Miss Terring, that we can help each other.”

Vezz frowned. “Your theories? Just what sort of long game are you really playing here-”

Zojja didn’t let him finish, marching toward the slope of the hill to look down at the base, which was starting to come alive with activity. “We need a way in. Vezz already looks the part, but you… hm. We’ll need one of those uniforms. And then, I think I have a plan.”

* * *

“This is a terrible plan.”

Not that anything Vezz had at the moment was much better. Getting the human a uniform from one of the other humans had been tricky without sounding an alarm of some kind, but they had managed. Now they just had to sneak in.

He had, of course, protested. There was the possibility someone in there had gotten wind of what had happened at his old lab. If they did, they would certainly be on the lookout for someone matching his description, and then it would be on Zojja to explain how she’d gotten someone he’d sent here killed or worse. But Zojja wouldn’t be deterred. She would be keeping an eye on things from a distance, she insisted. It would be fine.

“Fine” was so far outside of his normal parameters at this point that it didn’t even register.

His impromptu new partner in crime didn’t seem to mind. She was clearly trained in thiefcraft, and while a bit simple comparatively, she at least knew how to keep quiet when she needed to. Now they just needed to pray that it worked.

It unsettled him how easily he was able to slip back into old mannerisms, chin up and shoulders back, eyes narrowed just enough that it gave him the sense of haughty superiority that hung around many senior researchers. The guard at the entrance, a human man, gave the two a cautious look, clearly not entirely convinced. “Halt. What’s the password?”

Vezz scoffed, his ears folding back as he idly flicked imagined dust from his robes. “Password? Are you daft, bookah? I’m late for a very important debriefing, and you’re going to make me later.”

“I still need the-”

“Of course you do.” The asura gave a long, irritated sigh. “Honestly, humans. Bad enough I’ve had to travel with one, but now I’ve this addlepated mouth-breather trying to hold me up. Listen here, short ear, my name is Researcher Zevv. I am a project lead from the Collider facility in southern Metrica, set up near the city. My assistant here was trying to keep track of any attempts to foil this facility’s “top secret” plans which, I might add, have been haphazardly left about for any clay-brained layabout to find. I’m not saying you’re set to be overrun with Peacemakers, but if you want to turn me away…”

For a moment or two, the human gawked at him. Vezz was starting to wonder if the bluff had worked, or if the man was just in awe of the sheer brass of an asura two feet shorter than him. But in the end, he took a few steps back, motioning quickly with one hand to usher them through. “Make your business quick, Researcher. I’ll notify the patrols that we may have Peacemakers inbound.”

He didn’t waste time jogging off to find his fellows, and Vezz immediately picked up the pace, enjoying the startled sound the woman with him made as she lengthened her stride to keep up. Asura were not normally given to quick gaits… humans so often walked too slowly to compensate. Ah well, she’d learn.

“That seems like it was easier than it should’ve been.”

“That would be because it probably was. I wouldn’t doubt he’s going to raise a lot of suspicions around, especially when they send a message to Researcher Zevv.”

Garence blinked, eyes round. “Wait. That’s a real guy? Why would you give them the name of a real guy?!”

Vezz curled back his lip and rolled his eyes before glancing back up at her. “Because reaching Zevv will take them time that we'll need to snoop. That old bastard is a notorious hermit. Barely anyone’s seen his face in years, outside of Kudu himself.”

“But they’ll catch on!”

“Yes, but the point is that it won't be quickly enough to do anything about it. Come on… if this is laid out like a typical lab, they’ll keep any blueprints down this way.”

He didn’t wait for her to respond, picking up his pace. The faster they got done with this… the sooner they could leave.

* * *

The research laboratories had been dug deep into a cave system deep in the cluster of hills the base was situated on top of. Vezz suspected they had likely been expanded in the time the Inquest had been here, though it was somewhat surprising just how extensive the work was. Was this a secret facility, like Theta-9 had been?

He felt an awful chill, like a ball of ice, sink into his gut at the thought of his old workplace, and he flicked his ears hard to dispel the thought. It was bad enough they had to be down here, deep in the mix of Inquest and potential separatists, but thinking of what had happened that night was a surefire way to get them both killed.

This area was bathed in an unwelcoming red glow, and Vezz paused to read the glyphs carved into the stone in asuran. They were a little better organized than some facilities… which just led him to believe that this place was more than just a throwaway lab.

“This should be the one we need. Looks like the team working this research bay is on break, too. Talk about dumb luck. Come on, let’s start looking.”

Garence’s brow furrowed as she followed him in, staring around at the tables full of datapads and paper. “...what exactly are we looking for?”

Vezz gave her a long look, reminding himself he was dealing with a human. “We are looking for blueprints. They won’t be too dissimilar to those for buildings or charr machinery… just more high tech. Pick up anything that looks interesting and I’ll go through them. If Snaff’s blueprints are in this lab, his mark will be on them, and it’s fairly easy to recognize… at least for another asura.”

As they set to searching, his mind was reeling. It didn’t make sense to him that they would be trying to find something Snaff had built. Most of his research was carefully guarded, and besides, it had focused on golemancy. He had been at the forefront of golem technology, and many of his most brilliant inventions had sadly been taken to the grave with him.

So what would he have made that both separatists and Inquest would want their hands on? He had heard, of course, about Snaff’s research into dragon magic. Could that be the secret? Did this have something to do with Snaff’s old involvement with dragon research?

It would explain why Zojja was so cagey about this whole business, if nothing else…

They went through dozens of scattered prints, but nothing seemed to stick out. Vezz could feel his shoulders tensing- the longer they stayed here, the more likely it became that their ruse would be discovered. It was the last thing they needed. Hissing softly to himself, he picked up another pad. There had to be something here.

“Hey gruesome, is this what we’re looking for?”

Vezz’s ears shot up, disturbed from his consideration by the unpleasant nickname the human woman had given him. But he turned all the same, expression sour as he reached out to gesture for the parchment she was holding. “Let me see. ...hn. This is definitely Snaff’s glyph, yes… on all three of these. But this is nothing of any real consequence. Minor golem modifications, powerstone realignment- wait. Hello… this is new. I knew the old man was studying dragon magic well before he took Zojja under his wing, if only by hearsay, but this. Yes, I do believe you found something! Not bad for a short-ear.”

Rolling up the pages as carefully as he could, he tucked them away into a holder on his belt. Perhaps some things he’d taken with him were more useful than others. Already she was looking around, clearly anxious. “...so as fun as this quiet ransacking is, we ready to go or what?”

“Yes. We should move quickly. If I had to wager a guess, I would say that if they haven’t caught on to this whole mess yet, they will soon-” He paused, ears pricking forward slightly. He could hear footsteps approaching their position… and quickly. “Come on! Hurry!”

He bolted ahead of her as quick as he could, but it wasn’t hard for her to keep pace. By now, he could hear rising voices, people demanding to know where the intruders were last seen. They had definitely been found out.

* * *

Their original exit was compromised… there was no way they were leaving the same way they got in, so the pair found themselves soon winding through narrow, brightly lit hallways in a seemingly senseless pattern. Vezz was growing impatient, and he was sure Zojja was too. Finally, he paused, scowling before unhooking the container from his belt and shoving it into Garence’s hands. “Take this to Zojja, and don’t dawdle. I’ll draw their attention away so that you can get out. You’re a thief, right?”

She blinked several times, clearly startled by his actions. “Wuh- well yes, I am, but- but wait, if you stay here, they might kill you!”

“They haven’t managed yet. If you’re a thief worth half your salt, you’ll be able to get out of here with little trouble. Go on! Hurry, before they catch up!”

Garence stared at him for a moment or two longer, but finally - gripping the container tightly in both hands - she gave a sharp nod and hurried off, vanishing into the shadows. Vezz, on the other hand, swallowed. Most Inquest bases had similar layouts, and this one was likely no different. Moving forward, he took a path to his left.

His diligence did pay off, and before long, he found himself heading down a narrow service passageway. He could see daylight ahead, picking up his pace… until he found himself tackled, pinned against the wall and roughly turned to face his assailant.

Panic immediately leapt into his chest, heart pounding as he stared into the narrowed eyes of the asura that had caught him. But his pursuer made no attempt to harm him. He stood stock still, brow deeply furrowed, and it was then Vezz realized he knew this man.

He was just a shade shorter than Vezz himself was, with neat teal hair pulled back into a ponytail. His eyes, obviously augmented to correct some sort of vision impairment, glowed yellow at the pupils, giving the blue irises an eerie sort of reflection. Deep scars crossed his face and nose, but it did little to mar his otherwise handsome, roguish features.

As Vezz struggled to steady his breathing, he swallowed hard, ears pulling back in genuine confusion. “Korrix? What- how-”

“I could ask you the same thing,” the other asura spat back, his voice just barely shaking. “What in the depths are you doing here, Vezz? I thought you were a wanted man! I heard you’d killed everyone at Theta-9!”

Vezz felt his chest clench at those words. Korrix wasn’t wrong. He grimaced, fighting the urge to lift his hands and place them on Korrix’s shoulders. “Please, it isn’t- I know what it sounds like, but I can explain everything-”

“Not here.” Korrix’s tone was blunt, but to Vezz’s surprise, he stepped back, pulling the necromancer with him. “I’ll get you out. But then you’re going to tell me exactly what happened. I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, but if you try to run… I won’t-” He paused, and from the look on his face, he was clearly warring with himself over something. “I can’t go easy on you."

“...okay.”

He watched Korrix nod, then moved to jog after him as he headed toward the exit. It wasn’t until they were well away from the base, sitting on a small plateau opposite to where Zojja was undoubtedly certain he wasn’t coming back, that the shorter asura turned, giving Vezz a long, quiet look.

It was hard to meet his gaze. For all that had happened, both between them and in the time since, it wasn’t as if he no longer had feelings for him. Korrix had been good to him in the time they had courted, and deep down, he knew how much this betrayal must have hurt.

He frowned softly when Korrix folded his arms, gesturing slightly toward him. “Well? What in the depths happened, Vezz? All any of us has been told was that you flipped and killed everyone at Theta-9… that you drained the life out of Overseer Zaige out of cold blood. That doesn’t sound like you. I know you. The Vezz I knew never would’ve hurt that many people. Not without a really good reason.”

Silence fell, and for a moment, Vezz felt as if his tongue was too big for his mouth. There was so much to say, so much to try to explain. There was no guarantee Korrix would even believe him. He could just as easily kill him as soon as he stopped talking.

But Zojja had been right about one thing: he had nothing to lose and everything to gain.

And so he started talking, pouring out the grievances, what he had seen. He sat down in the grass, eyes focused on his hands as he spoke, gesturing wildly. Never once did he look up to see how Korrix was responding to his tale. He didn’t want to know. Not yet. When he finally did look up, however, Korrix was simply staring at him, eyes wide. Slowly, he sat down next to Vezz, letting out a long, soft breath, as if he had been holding it for some time.

“I always had a feeling Zaige was bad news, but slaughtering children based on some wild theory…”

“It’s the Inquest, Korrix. Most others like him wouldn’t hesitate to do the same thing. We both joined this mess, knowing full well what we could be getting into. It just happened that I reaped our just desserts.”

An uneasy silence fell between them. Vezz was ready to get up, to do anything to break it, but Korrix reached forward, tightly gripping one of his hands. “I want to help you. I know… I know things were off between us. Maybe that can’t be fixed now. But I did love you once. I’d like to think you loved me too. And honestly? That’s how I know I can trust you. Because I’ve seen you when no one else is looking. You’re an honest man. A good man. And I know you’re telling the truth.”

Immediately, Vezz’s ears pulled back. The very last thing he wanted was to get Korrix killed over this. “Korrix, if you get caught-”

“The same thing would happen if you got caught. It’s not an ideal situation. Believe me, I realize that. Look, I know they’ll send me after you. They’ll see it as some kind of karmic justice- it’s not like people didn’t know we were a thing before. So I can do what I can to throw them off the scent. Give you time.”

For the first time since this whole mess began, Vezz felt his shoulders start to relax. He may not have trusted Zojja… and he certainly didn’t trust that human woman he had been stuck with for this part of the ordeal. But Korrix… Korrix he felt like he could trust. A weak smile crossed his face as his ears drooped. “Thank you, Korrix. Just… be safe. I’d never forgive myself if you got hurt for my sake.”

Korrix grinned, cheeky and coy as ever, and patted Vezz’s hand. “I won’t. Don’t worry. You know me- I’m the best assassin in the business. They’ll never know I’m involved.”

It wasn’t ideal. Korrix was right. But this was probably the best outcome he could’ve hoped for. Sighing, he finally let himself stand, reaching out to help Korrix up. “I trust you. Let me know if you need any help at all, though… all right? I should catch up with my party before I’m written off as dead.”

“Do what you need to, Vezz. I’ll always have your back.”

* * *

By the time he returned to the spot where they’d made camp, Mindless was in a tizzy, shrieking and moaning at Zojja every time she even looked like she may be considering packing up. Garence was seated nearby as well, waiting patiently, seeming momentarily amused by the little bone minion’s insistence on being heard. She stood, though, when Vezz came over the rise, flashing a cheeky grin. “I was starting to think you weren’t gonna make it out.”

“I ran into a little trouble on the way. Were those the blueprints you wanted, Zojja?”

The shorter asura flipped her ears back, sniffing a bit, but she did look down at the container in her hands. For the briefest of moments, a pained, distant look crossed her face, but it was gone just as quickly. “Yes. These three documents account for what was stolen from the lab that day. But you’re still not quite off the hook.”

Vezz blinked, then immediately bared his fangs. “What do you mean? I did what you asked, and I nearly got myself and the human killed doing it!”

“You agreed to help me.”

“I agreed to help you get the blueprints back.”

“Semantics.” Zojja waved off his objections with a flick of her wrist, walking toward her tent. “A colleague of mine has some theories regarding the dragons and their relationship with magic, and these blueprints will help us toward that end. But we’ll need to enact the plans through a proxy, and I’m looking to broker an allegiance with one of the orders. You - and your human friend here - could benefit from looking into it. The Vigil, the Durmand Priory, and the Order of Whispers all have need of people of considerable skill, and they’re interested in what we have to say.”

While the human woman looked intrigued, Vezz’s jaw tightened, bright red eyes narrowing. “It sounds to me like I’m being conscripted.”

Zojja regarded him cooly, brow lifted just slightly as her ears turned forward. “If you want to call it that. But this will turn out to be a mutually beneficial relationship, Vezz. You just have to keep playing your part.”

Vezz was bristling, but she had him in a corner. It was keep running from the Inquest, potentially causing more trouble for Korrix… or help Zojja.

She was insufferable.

Growling faintly, he whipped his head to their human companion. “And what about you? I’d assume you’re interested in this chicanery?”

“Well… yeah. Captain Thackeray was talking about joining an order, too, and why not do it with someone I already know? He talked about the dragons, and how they were a threat, so… our interests are pretty much the same. I’ll send a bird with what we found, let him know what’s up, and there you go!”

Without even waiting for Vezz to retort, Zojja snapped around on her heel, marching inside her tent. “Then it’s settled. I’m sure Logan won’t have an issue with me borrowing his new lackey if our interests are aligned. You two will meet me in the Synergetics dissertation hall in one week. Then we can really get this party started.”

* * *

Vezz was not enthused. At least not at first.

They had gone, just as they had agreed, and he could at the very least agree with the human woman that the only order that sounded even remotely promising was Whispers. A pretty young asura Vezz was certain used her looks to throw people off their guard named Batanga and a tall, stern looking human man named Ihan represented their order, and though Ihan seemed somewhat surprised to be in Rata Sum - a place Vezz very much wished he wasn’t, even for the short time they spent there - he acted with the decorum due the situation.

They came to a simple agreement: dragons were eating magic, so the dragons must be stopped. The longer Vezz worked alongside this human woman, the more comfortable he found himself in her company. She wasn't particularly judgy considering his time with the Inquest, even if she wasn't as bright as he could hope, and she did have some funny quips in a fight.

He'd been quiet for a time as they approached Lion's Arch, en route to meet with the Lightbringer who would serve as their mentor. She glanced down at him, quirking her lips a bit as she observed his pensive expression. "You look even more sour than usual, gruesome. What's got your dolyak?"

"Hm? Oh, nothing. Just... thinking. You know, Garence, you've been a passable traveling companion."

Garence made the oddest little noise at that before letting out a full blown laugh. "Passable? I guess that's a compliment, coming from you. I didn't know you cared."

He gave her a long look, then snorted, a sort of half smile curling his thin lips. “Yes, well. I suppose not all you bookahs are useless. You’ve given me a change of heart.”

“Do you even have one?”

“Oh, you wound me.”

The pair shared something of a chuckle after that, until finally they came to their destination. The charr they spoke to reminded Vezz a little of himself: cagey and dismissive, using a cheery tone to hide something very far beneath. He called himself Tybalt Leftpaw… an obvious nod, he considered, to the heavy metal bracer that covered the entirety of his lower right arm and hand.

He was a good man, and he had their first mission.

Now, Vezz thought, he was one step closer to freedom… and one step further from his past.


End file.
